Have you ever noticed that men seem to create mascots for everything. From baseball to cigarettes, football to pin-up magazines; Chief Wahoo, Camel Joe, the Dawg pound and that little bunny with two ears. Not only do men have mascots for everything we also know most of them by name….which is weird since most of us can’t remember the date we met our significant other or our kids’ birthdays. (An Inside Aside: Just so you three know….5393, 11495, & 876.)
Now in the spirit of carrying on this fine tradition why don’t we come up with mascots for our relationships? I mean if my favorite football team is important enough to merit a mascot after losing 31 of their last 32 games then shouldn’t the love of my life and I merit one too? And as luck would have it my friend and fellow poet, Rives, has taught me the formula to discover what the mascots for our relationships are.
Now just go with me on this!
Take all the photos of you and your girl or your guy together and lay them all out face up, (or put them on a slideshow on your smartphone) and look at them. But don’t pay attention to the two of you, your goofy smiles and duck-lips no, look in the background instead. Pay attention to all the items that show up in a room when the two of you are together….okay, now look for the one thing, that one item, that shows up more often than is statistically realistic. It could be anything….A video game, a bible, a bong, or a vibrator…i mean anythng, but whatever it is that thing is the mascot for your relationship,
So I recently applied this formula to one of my longtime relationships. A relationship that has spanned the entirety of my twenty-ish years in prison behind these walls and fences. When I applied this formula I realized that it wasn’t a universal formula, one that works for everyone, because there are no photos or pics or selfies of this relationship of mine. Only envelopes full of envelopes holding the letters we have sent to each other throughout these decades. And I realised that there was only one thing that truly represents hers and my relationship and could serve as our mascot….
My pen has been with us from the very beginning and this realization inspired me to write a poem about our mascot and what he would say about the two of us and this relationship he has unknowingly become the mascot for and titled it this:
If my pen could talk.
If my pen could talk it wouldnt say what the walls would say if they could talk and had half a chance to. It wouldnt tell you about back flips in sixty-nines or me hiding under the bed with a dog named Cody. No you wouldn’t here those stories but I’ve been knowing my pen for a minute so Ooo-eee he could tell you some doozies!
If my pen could talk he would tell you the truth about our relationship these last two decades or so. He would give you facts and figures in liters and gallons explaining how much ink I use each time you come…and how much more I use each time you go.
If my pen could talk he would probably remind me of all the letters I should have sent, written, finished or even just started. Encouraging me to speak up, to say, to express myself in some way to tell you what he – my pen – knows better than anyone else, which is this…..my heart it might be broken, and my soul may be shattered. but it would only take one thing from you, just five letters spelling one little word, “Hello!” and none of that would even matter.
If my pen could talk it would recite without hesitation and probably word for word, by which I mean verbatim every other woman I have written and every fantasy I have sated. We both know that there’s been more than you….there’s been a couple…aw, screw it…there’s been a couple dozen few! But you know as well as that good snitchin’ ass pen does that it will always be you! In that place that others visit and leave destroyed like rock stars in hotel rooms it will always be you!
If my pen could talk…well there are times I like to think that it wouldn’t. Instead I see him dancing…dancing a waltz across an empty page drawing a picture of a future, our future that never even had a chance. But then again my pen is a lot like me. He’ll never run out of ink or energy and he never knows when to just shut up and I just know that the next time my pen comes face to face with your pen he’s going to say in that insecure tone that only men and ink pens have…”Why dont you write as much as you used too?” and then continue in lowercase…you know, in a soft voice…”cuz’ i miss you as much as he do…”
If only….my pen could talk.
Rock on and Drive Safe
Daniel J. Royston
Categories: Daniel Royston